


Dirty Old Man

by kaige68



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Chekov's first away mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Old Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siluria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siluria/gifts).



> Ficlet written for Flash Challenge at [](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/profile)[**1_million_words**](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/) for [](http://siluria.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://siluria.livejournal.com/)**siluria**
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, this is fiction, I make no profit.  
> 

“Take off your clothes, get into bed.” Chekov was bruised, exhausted; McCoy hated the way Pavel hesitated for just a moment before doing as instructed. Hated even more that he began moving with an air of resignation. As though McCoy was just a dirty old man and nothing more, that Chekov needed to tolerate.

“On your stomach.” He grumbled the words and waited until Pavel settled. McCoy took off his own shoes, only his shoes, then settled himself on his knees, straddling Chekov’s hips. He began sweeping his hands over muscle, pushing at knots, gliding across places that were clearly contused.

Chekov had been scanned in Medical, the whole away-team had. Jim was the only one with anything of note, a large gash and a sprained wrist. Bones healed those without issues. Everyone else was just a mass of bruises, thankfully. There were medical treatments that would stop the bruising, but science had only advanced so far, and the human body was what it was. Muscles would be stiff and stubborn to move for a day or so after. Not a big deal if you had a nice cushy job somewhere, a bigger deal when you were working near Jim Kirk. A much bigger deal when you successfully completed your first away mission with the captain and saved the day, again. A very big deal when you were probably going to need to be fully functional before your next shift started.

McCoy turned up the temperature and the humidity in the room. Pavel moaned as thumbs dug the tension out of his shoulders.

He moved systematically over the flesh underneath him, remembering what he’d seen on the scan. He wanted to make sure that Chekov was as fit as he could be the next time Jim called for him.

He’d been so proud, Pavel, when he was chosen to beam down to the planet. So excited and oddly, nervously sure of himself. Leonard had been proud of him too, but scared. He knew so well that Jim had no off, and no half-measure. He knew too that Jim always moved first, to be first in action, but also to spare those he led. McCoy was always afraid for Jim, but McCoy was always afraid of something it seemed.

He was especially afraid of Pavel Chekov.

Pavel began speaking in Russian while McCoy worked. It sounded recited, almost like a list. He could turn on the translator, or he could just ask, but it humored Leonard to wonder what Chekov was saying. He smiled at the thought of hearing a chocolate chip cookie recipe.

By the time McCoy had shifted and moved and finally finished working over the last bit of flesh at Chekov’s feet, Pavel was asleep. Leonard smiled, brushed at the curly head on the pillow, then stripped down to his shorts and stretched out. He wondered how Chekov would wake him in the morning. He wasn’t just a dirty old man, but he was at least partially one.


End file.
